16. Sam

Chapter sixteen

Sam

(I Mean, I Guess Maybe It’s Time)

T here’s this term I once heard. Hiraeth. It’s from Wales, I think. I don’t like borrowing things from cultures and history that I haven’t studied extensively and don’t fully understand, but it has always stuck with me. Apparently, it’s translated as a kind of homesickness, but I think it’s one of those words that translates exceptionally poorly. It’s more of a concept. More of a sickness that invades a person rather than just mere homesickness. It’s something that gets so inside you, permeates so deeply into you, that you know it’s going to be a part of you forever. It’s all the worse knowing the very thing you’re pining for is a ghost. It doesn’t exist anymore. It’s a burning wish for the past, for something you can’t go back to. The term isn’t supposed to be applied to a person. It’s all about a place you can never revisit. A place that lives in your mind and soul. A place where your spirit is tied to.

But if it did apply to a person, I know that for me, that person is Beau.

Fucking liar, betrayer, cheese toes Beau.

“I think he sounds like an asshole,” a voice says.

Leave it to my sister to know just what it takes to make me laugh. But she doesn’t know I’m smiling for a completely different reason. A reason that has to do with said man who has been living rent-free in my head for far too long now and a conversation we once had about an obsession with butts.

“I don’t know. He did make it possible for you all to be here,” I murmur.

And they are. My mom, my dad, and my sister. It has been over a month, but Aiden was taken into custody last week, and he’s now awaiting trial. We’re all gathered in my little farmhouse kitchen for the first time. Since they flew, they only arrived last night after renting a car and driving all the way out to the farmhouse. I haven’t seen them face-to-face in over eleven months. Last night, I cried as much as I could possibly cry, all happy, relieved, aching tears.

“I don’t think so,” Katie grunts as she butters a homemade bran muffin.

When I found out my family was flying in, I did a ton of baking. I never used to bake, cook, or do any gardening in my old life. Okay, so I didn’t manage to plant a garden this year because I didn’t have a tiller, and I let that stop me, but not next year.

Not. Next. Year.

“I know. Technically, it was the FTC and the police, and he was just working with them, but he did do his fair share.”

“Was his security or whatever company even involved with that? Because I’m doubtful about how much he actually did besides tattle and give information to the right people.”

“That’s still something.” My heart pounds. “It’s something because, without him, I would be the one still under investigation. I could be the one facing jail time.” That’s the wrong thing to say because Mom looks like she’s going to burst into tears again. She cried as much as I did last night and early this morning when she got up around the same time I did and had a cup of coffee with me out on the porch.

Katie took the couch, I took the smaller spare bed, and my parents took my room. I didn’t sleep much in that bed last night as I kept thinking about the last person who slept in it.

Over five weeks ago.

I don’t want to miss him. I don’t want to be that person. At the same time, I don’t want to be a hardened, unenlightened person just because it’s easier to be that way and it hurts less. I do want to focus on the good Beau did, and he did do me a huge turn. He was instrumental in giving me my freedom, my name, my history, and my life back. Because of him, I have a choice again. I don’t have to live in constant fear. Was he alone? No. But was he instrumental in achieving my freedom? Yes. Is he still important to me ?

I think I already answered that based on the fact that I can’t stop thinking about him and how he felt a lot like home.

Katie huffs, Mom wipes away tears, and Dad digs into another carrot muffin. I made some of those, too. Also, banana chocolate chip and six different varieties of cookies.

“You’re coming home, right?” Katie asks the question that my parents haven’t been able to bring themselves to put out there. I think they’re afraid I’m going to stay.

But I don’t want them to be afraid. I don’t want them to see this place as a dead-end last resort. I want them to look at it the way I’ve come to look at it. With pride, peace, and love.

“I don’t…I don’t think so. At least not right now.” Mom’s lip starts to tremble, and I rush over and wrap my arms around her—chair and all—since she’s sitting at the table beside my dad. Katie hovers anxiously around the kitchen like a mom- tears bomb is about to go off, and she doesn’t want to be in the emotional splash zone. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Because I do. Kind of. But I have this place now. It was originally my escape and hideaway, but I’ve kind of become attached to it. I’ve been thinking more and more about what I want to do with my career now that I can go back to having one, and honestly, I’m not sure I want to give up what I’m doing. If I resume being an up-and-coming anything, I’d like to do something sustainable.”

“But we miss you!” Katie exclaims.

“I know.” Mom isn’t going into full-on mom-wailing mode, thank goodness, but the few tears that trickle down her cheeks are enough to slay me. Dad, on the other hand, looks at me helplessly. “I know. I miss you too,” I add.

“You’re a grown woman,” Dad says. Okay, maybe not so helpless. It’s just the tears that get to him too. “We understand you want to make your own decisions and live your own life. You’ve got a lovely place here, and you’ve worked hard at it. Eleven months is enough time to get used to anything, including a full change of life outside the city. You never deserved to have any of this happen to you, baby, and we’re so proud that you’re thriving despite everything.”

“I don’t know about thriving, but I’m doing the best I can,” I say sheepishly.

“You have the whole world open to you,” Dad says.

“But you’ll be so far away,” Mom wails.

Dad puts his hand on her shoulder. “Sue-Ellen, she’s only a four-hour plane ride away, and that goes for us and her. There are seat sales all the time, and we’re not going to be forced to be strangers anymore.”

“Who knows? When you retire, maybe you can build a house in the back. I have lots of land, and I’m pretty sure the zoning allows a second building on the property for living purposes.”

Dad chuckles, and Mom finally joins in, swiping away her tears. I know neither of them can imagine themselves living out here. They won’t ever leave the city, at least not for anything longer than a visit, but the offer will always stand.

“Ooh, maybe I’ll build a house and get some chickens and learn how to farm,” Katie says. She’s the only one of us still dry-eyed. “Kidding. That sounds super awful, no offense.”

“Ugh.” I rush at her and hug her hard before ruffling her hair because isn’t that the thing every single person on earth hates most? “That sounds like something only a brat would say.”

She shoves me away, then pulls me back for a real hug. “Brat? Brat? I’ll show you brat.”

She’s three years younger than I am, but after high school, she worked odd jobs and didn’t want to give up her friends or a more vibrant nightlife than I ever had. I won’t say she’s a partier, or she won’t grow up, or that she’s irresponsible because she’s not any of those things. She’s just taking longer than I did to find her path, and that’s perfectly fine. I knew what I wanted to be when I was ten years old, and I went for it so hard that I graduated early. Sometimes, especially with all that’s happened, it’s hard to believe I’m only twenty-five.

Taking my hand, Katie pulls me out of the kitchen, waving our parents off over her shoulder. “I just want to see the barn cats,” she says. “We got here too late last night, and I keep getting promised that one of them is an absolute unit.”

As I slip into my hairy slides, I flush at how I used Beau’s words with my family last night. Yeah, even out here, I didn’t totally give up on fashion. I remember how Beau’s nose crinkled when he saw these ridiculous, wonderful, pink, and impractical shoes. I shake the memory off. It seems like that’s all I ever do—shake off images of him. He’s a haunter, all right. A full-on freaking ghost.

“Tell me about him,” Katie demands as we walk to the barn. She’s got a pair of huge rubber boots on. I’m not even sure how she fit those into her luggage. They’re green, industrial-looking, and a total overkill, but exactly what my sister would pack to be prepared for the country. My freaking goodness, I love her. I love my parents. The giant ache in my chest hasn’t quite evaporated yet, even though they’re going to be here for a week.

It’s going to take me another few days for the reality of them being real and being here to truly sink in. I guess it’s half trauma and half disbelief that this nightmare is finally coming to a close for me. I’ve lived someone else’s life for a year, but it’s kind of been my life, too. I’ve learned how to be two different people. I’ve learned an entirely new skill set, different passions, and a new way to survive. It wasn’t horrible, other than going on the run and having to give up everything I loved about my old life, as well as not being able to see my family or friends. But the rest?

I breathe in the sweet smell of hay after pulling open the barn door.

Both cats rush at us as I take a scoop of food out of the container on the shelf. “Sorry, I forgot to bring treats. I promise I’ll come back with something. Tuna, probably.”

They both meow their heads off, eat a few crumbles, and then come racing over. Katie plops down on one of the bales, laughing as she gets double cat-mobbed. They both shove their wet noses into her palms, her neck, and her cheeks. They’re normally not so enthusiastic about strangers, but she probably smells like me after being in the house all night. Even if she doesn’t, she’s my blood and literally one of my favorite human beings ever.

After the cats finally tone it down, and a few minutes later pretend like we’re not even here, all cattitude and perfect feline indifference, Katie puts her hand on my arm. “You still haven’t said anything.”

I sigh. “I’m not sure what there is to say.”

She’s pure evil with all that burning curiosity, but there’s humor lurking under it. She knows I’m hurting, and she wants to help in any way she can. “Was he hunky?”

“Oh, terribly,” I deadpan. She’s not put off by the dryness of my tone.

“Excellent. You look like you banged him.”

“Katie! What the hell?” I gasp.

She giggles and waves a hand but refuses to let me off the hook. “It’s not the end of the world. So what if you had crazy sex with your bodyguard slash undercover agent dude? That’s hot. You were out here all by yourself for a long time. You probably needed to end the dry spell.”

I shake my head. “Good freaking goodness.”

She frowns at me. “The problem isn’t the hot sex. It’s that I think you fell for him, the fact that he was kind of a douche notwithstanding.”

Ugh. Denial isn’t going to get me anywhere. Not with my little sister. I might be good at clothes, but she’s a genius at people. She should pursue that. She’d be great at it if that’s what she wanted. I’m not one of those people who has an easy time keeping everything jammed up inside. It’s almost a relief to let it all out.

“I’m not sure what I am. Still kind of mad, still a little sad, but still missing him anyway. And yeah, it wasn’t just the…um, well, the physical aspect I miss. It’s him. But he’s the kind of person who needs to realize for himself that the world is a problem, but it’s not his biggest problem. His problem is the way he sees it and reacts to it. He’s had a lot of pain in his life, and he doesn’t want to let himself feel it. He thinks breaking isn’t strength, and feeling anything is silly. I know he does, but he won’t admit it, even to himself. He wants to just be one of those strong people who keeps moving forward, but he thinks doing that means cracking himself wide open.”

“Butt cracking himself?” Katie snickers.

I roll my eyes. “He told me I was obsessed with butts. What I should have said was that it runs in the family.”

“Definitely. There’s nothing wrong with a good butt joke, and how on earth would we call anyone a jerkface without inserting some kind of bathroom humor in there? It’s just not as fun.”

“I pretty much told him that,” I say with a chuckle.

“Goodness. If he can’t accept a good butt-laced insult, then I’m not sure he’s the one, Sam.”

Sam . It feels so, so good to hear my real name spoken out loud by someone who has known me my whole life. Yes, even if Sam is short for Samandra. I might not ever look at my real name with such disdain again. It’s more of a privilege to be able to even use it.

“I don’t know if he’s the one. That’s a little heavy.”

“You won’t know if you don’t get in contact with him again,” Katie wisely says.

“I don’t have his number. I don’t…it’s not like he’s one of those people you can just track down and call up. He probably goes to pretty great lengths to keep his privacy private.”

“Hmm.” She pretends to think deeply. “Despite the fact that he was kind of a catfishing turdstink, you did meet him on that hot bedding website.” Yeah, my family does know about that. I was always straight up and honest with them. They were already worried about me. I wasn’t making things any worse with the hot bedding thing. At least not that much worse. “You could try to message him on there.”

“I’d be surprised if his account is even still active.”

“You mean you haven’t checked?” she gasps. She isn’t faking the surprise.

How do I explain that I haven’t had the heart or will to log back in after Beau?

“A lot of things have been on hold in my real life and my…well, under my fake name too.”

“This is real life.” Katie pats the bale and motions to the two cats, who are sitting side by side, staring at us with huge, unblinking cat eyes. It’s slightly creepy and a whole lot cute. “They’re real, and they love you. You’ve loved this place. I can see your touches everywhere. This is just the start of good things, and I’m glad you’re staying here.”

“Are you?” I ask.

“Well, I kind of hate you for it too. I miss you, bish.”

“I missed you too, bish .” What a terrible term. I punch her shoulder lightly and lean into her.

“Anyway, go online and check,” she says, leaning into me too. If either of us leaned away, the other would fall over, so we’re both holding the other up. “Maybe he left his account active just so you have one way to contact him if you ever wanted.”

“He did look sort of sorry when he left, even if he didn’t say it. There were so many times where I could tell he was feeling something, even if he was doing his best not to admit it to himself.”

“Feeling something and denying it is still better than faking a whole relationship. Ugh. If I could get my hands on Aiden, I would…I would…well, it would be soooo much worse than cheese toes to the face.”

“I know.” I can’t even sigh about it. All I can say is I know. Because what else is there to say at this point? Everything that happened still brought me here, or whatever it is that all the optimistic shits say about the extreme tribulations they may or may not have gone through. It’s such a romantic way of looking at life, but maybe life needs a little romance if we’re going to make it.

She leans into me even harder. It’s hot out here and in the barn, but I enjoy her warmth anyway. It’s good to be one-half of a sticky sister duo again.

“I’ll log on with you if you want. If he’s not on there, then you might have to leave it up to fate and to the Neanderthal himself. He knew you. It might not have been for long, but I can’t see how he couldn’t help falling in love with you. He seems like the kind that’s pretty ill-equipped to deal with that kind of emotional knockout, so it might take him a while, but if you have faith, good things will come. Or something.”

“Thank you.” I blink back my stinging tears. I’m the opposite of what Beau tried to do. I’m feeling everything . “I needed that so freaking badly.”

The cats are still staring at us, but now, through the moisture blur, it looks like there are eight eyes and four of them. It’s also kind of creepy.

Two of them look like absolute units.